Read Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy) Online

Authors: Zack Mason

Tags: #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Fiction - Historical, #Fiction - Thriller

Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy) (24 page)

BOOK: Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy)
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By far, his favorite aspect of being a lord, however, was the power he wielded, the rights he had over those subject to him. Every man in Essex worked the majority of the week for his benefit.  He could order men to prepare him a feast, or head off to war, depending on his preference.  While he tended to leave the more homely women in the villages alone, no pretty young maiden made it to her wedding night untouched by his hands.

He lay upon his enormous bed, which was draped in finely woven covers, contemplating the days' events.  The glow of torchlight illuminated the room darkly with wavering flickers of orange light.  Normally, he would have been dreaming about some young vixen he'd spotted on the road, what she'd be like when he got her into his chambers, but tonight he was completely vexed with a matter of a different sort.

It would be wrong to say that he was fearful of these bandits that were attacking and eluding his men.  Angry, without a doubt.  Also, a bit concerned, but not really fearful.  How could three or four bandits take on over a hundred armed soldiers and escape unscathed?

The answer should be:
They can't

Yet, they had.  Randolph reported during this last attack they'd been assaulted from all sides, which had to mean many more men than just three or four.

Still, Randolph could have been embellishing to protect his inadequacy.  Geoffrey missed Clyde of Dorchester.  He didn't know Randolph DeCleary like he'd known Clyde.  Clyde had been as close as his right hand for years.  That was another reason to curse these bandits.  They'd killed one of his best men.

 

Then, there were the reports of magic.  He'd spoken with a number of the survivors himself, when Randolph wasn't around of course, and the fear which shone in their eyes was testimony enough they weren't lying about what they'd seen.  The invisible arrows that struck men in the head and killed them when no archer was in sight.  Mysterious explosions which killed man and beast alike with no apparent cause. 
Were
these bandits magicians?

 He would not allow a troop of peons to put the fear of God in him.  No serf or bandit would force his hand.  He was lord of this realm.  Essex would stand.  He would find out who these men were if it were the last thing he did and then he would crush them.  And if he couldn't crush them, he would crush their families.  They would pay, one way or the other.

Rage began its drum-like pulse, building and throbbing within his veins.  No one got the best of Geoffrey de Mandeville, not even the king.  Much less a group of nobodies. 
Commoners
.

It occurred to him he could ask King Henry for help, but he was shaking his head before he even finished the thought.  When the king called on
him
for help, his stature increased, but to call on the aid of the king because of a few mere bandits would be humiliating.  He had to take care of the situation himself.

He was smiling contentedly, considering the many ways he would exact revenge on this band of ruffians, when a crackling sound to his immediate right interrupted his reverie.  It resembled the way dry wood pops in a hot fire.  This sound was followed by the sudden presence of cold steel pressed against his throat.

The earl froze.  One move and his life could be forfeit.  If someone dared violate the sanctity of a nobleman's private chambers, they would undoubtedly not hesitate to finish the deal by dispatching him.

Slowly, he twisted his head to the right to view his assailant.  With difficulty, he avoided slicing his neck against the pressure of the blade.

A stranger stood by his bed, holding a broadsword against his throat.  The man looked the part of a knight, but what knight would do something as bold and as dangerous as this?  This particular knight looked very angry.

"Are you Lord Geoff?"

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?"
The Norman language was Geoff's primary language and the one he reverted to in an emergency.  Geoff could not comprehend how this man had gotten in, or even who he was.

"Speak English, you old fool.  I'll ask
again,
" he pressed the tip further, "Are you Lord Geoff?"

The earl nodded slightly, afraid to move against the blade.  The man lifted it away slightly so he could talk.

"I am.  Who are you?"

"Mark."

"Sir Mark?"

"Titles."  Mark spat contemptuously.  "Titles mean nothing.  Is it not
I
who holds a sword to your neck,
Lord
?"

"What?  You would hold contempt for nobility?"

"You don't have a noble bone in your body, worm."

The earl’s face reddened, and he trembled with rage.  An insufferable impotence overcame him, though he determined to shake it.   He was at this bandit's mercy for the moment, but if given a chance...

"Robert Smith is a freedman.  He paid you for his freedom, yet you've attacked his family and would press him back into service as a serf."

"I do not have to answer to the likes of you," Geoff snapped.

 

"Is it true, or not?"

The earl glared at Mark, doing his best to burn holes through him with nothing more than the power of his hatred.

"We have killed your man, Clyde.  At least, that is what I am told his name was.  Not to mention numerous soldiers.  We decimated that little army you sent last night.  I sent DeCleary back to you as a gesture of good will, but we will not be so merciful in the future.  Our demand is simple.  Rule your lands with justice and leave the Smith family alone."

"You demand?  You
dare
demand something of me?"

Pensive, Mark reconsidered.  He dropped his sword to his side and stepped back a step.  Lord Geoff nimbly leapt to his feet to take full advantage of the opportunity.  He was unexpectedly agile for an older man.  Mark motioned toward the door with his sword.

"Go ahead.  Open the door, call for help."

The earl shook his head.  "You'll attack me from behind."

Mark stepped further back.  "No, I won't.  Go ahead."

The noble hesitated, but then made a mad dash for the door, ready to fling it open.  Behind him, Mark shifted out of the bed chamber and reappeared between the door and the earl.

Mark placed a hand on his chest and shoved, sending him flying backward onto the bed.  He raised his sword until its tip rested on the man's throat again, just above his Adam's apple.

"As you can see, we have capabilities of which you cannot conceive, and against which you have no weapon.  You can send any size army you wish, and we'll make them turn tail every time."

"We?" The earl gulped.

"
We.
"

Mark dropped his sword back to his side and let the man sit up.  He wanted the weight of the moment to sink in before he continued.  He needed the man's full and undivided attention, and from the looks of it, he had it.  Lord Geoff's face was paler than Macbeth's ghost.

"This is my last warning to you.  Leave the Smith family alone and rule your lands justly or I will return and kill you.  Of that, you have my promise.  Will you acquiesce?"

The man had just...
appeared
...right in front of him.  He'd jumped across the room
without moving
.  And the strange crackling sound that accompanied his movements — Randolph had been telling the truth. 
These men were magicians.

"You are...a wizard.  How much?  I would buy this talent you have.  Teach it to me.  I can pay you in gold."

Mark sent his foot into his groin as hard as he could and then slammed the hilt of his sword down on his shoulder.  The earl's clavicle audibly snapped.  Geoff howled in pain.

Mark ordered him to shut up, at which point, the wretch switched to a muffled whimpering.

"I am not kidding,
Sir Geoff.
  The next time we meet won't be as pleasant.  Do we understand each other?"

Geoff feebly nodded.  Anything to get rid of the stranger.

Mark turned and called over his shoulder as he walked away, "Don't think the coast is clear just because you don't hear from us.  We're always watching, be it a year, or twenty years from now."

Mark moved his finger toward his shifter, but then paused, stopping short of pushing the button.

 

"Know what?" he said, looking back up.  "I changed my mind.  You're coming with me."

 

***

 

Mark never thought the sight of a half naked man would make him happy, but to see Lord Geoff shivering and miserable in the moonlight brought a smile to his face for the humiliation Mark knew he was about to endure.

Mark forced the earl to accompany him on a shift to the far side of a nearby village in the middle of the night.  He'd torn the bottom half of his robes completely off and thrown them into a darkened copse of trees nearby, leaving the man exposed to the cold night air.

"Home is that way."  Mark pointed to the path leading right through the center of the village.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am."                       

"But why?  Why would you...?"  John's eyes flitted back and forth, searching the darker ways which skirted the village.

"Why would I purposefully embarrass you this way?"

"Yes."

"It'll be good for you.  Heck, it'll do us all a good turn to see you put in your place for just a little while.  Don't bother trying to go around the village.  I'll just bring you back here and make you do it again."

The man gulped.  His life, he could risk, but his pride?  Losing that was the only thing that truly scared him.

Smacking his backside with a stinging slap from the flat of his sword, Mark let out a whoop that would be sure to stir most of the sleeping residents of this small community.  The serfs that Lord Geoff drove so mercilessly were about to get a little levity at their master's expense.

Geoff yelped from the pain and jerked as he began a desperate scramble to get through the village before anyone could see him.

He didn’t make it.  Lanterns were lit and their glows spilled onto the street as puzzled denizens opened their doors one by one to see what was going on.

As they came to recognize the crazed, midnight rooster rushing down their street as fast as his naked feet would carry him, their initial stunned silence was broken by a female’s cackle, and that quickly erupted into vociferous whistles and catcalls from all.

Mark looked on with true satisfaction.  The Earl of Essex would have trouble garnering sufficient respect for a while.

 

 

 

 

"
And now I'm glad I didn't know

the way it all would end, the way it all would go...

I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance@

 

"
The Dance
"

 

                       ~ Garth Brooks

 

 

August 25
th
1100, Essex, England

 

The summer evening was pleasantly cool.  They enjoyed the tremendous feast Mrs. Smith had prepared in gratitude for all they'd done.  Now, sitting behind the Smith home around a warm cooking fire, they relaxed with the family.  One couldn't help but be taken by the clarity and beauty of the stars twinkling in the dark expanse overhead as they chatted and cut up.  The table at which they'd dined looked like a rustic picnic table.  Around the fire, they sat upon horizontal logs and crude wooden stools.  If it weren't for the clothing, the language, and a few other details, it could have been a scene from a modern camping trip.

Mark hadn't thought it possible, but with this meal, Elisa Smith had outdone even herself. The spread she'd laid out for them tonight had them licking their chops even more than the first breakfast she'd prepared.  He had half a mind to return to this time more often just for the cooking.

Three weeks had passed since Mark's little visit with Lord Geoff, and the earl hadn't ventured outside his castle since that night.  A lot of the villagers had witnessed the man in his full embarrassment, streaking naked at a mad dash through their town.  Chuckles and mockery were still circulating throughout Essex.  It would be a while before Geoffrey de Mandeville lived down the jokes and rumors.

Tonight, they celebrated, for it appeared Mark's ploy had worked.  Perhaps Lord Geoff would leave them alone after all.

Robert Smith approached bearing two large wooden cups of mead.  He gave Mark one, kept the other for himself, and sat down on the log next to him.  Hardy, Ty, and Abbie had all been similarly supplied.  Hardy and Ty were clearly enjoying their drinks.  Abbie only sipped at hers, but she was having as good a time as anyone.

The taste of the mead was surprising.  Mark had expected a beer-like ale, yet this golden drink tasted more like a sweet wine.  Robert explained it was made from honey.

"I cannot express our gratitude for all you've done, Mark."

"No need."  Mark waved dismissively.

BOOK: Chase (ChronoShift Trilogy)
8.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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